On that day, I closed my eyes in the fragrant fog of the temple and suddenly heard you recite the true words in the Buddhist scriptures;
That January, I shook all the prayer flags, not to cross, but to touch your fingertips;
That year, I kowtowed and climbed on the mountain road, not to see you, but to keep your warmth;
At that time, I turned the landscape into a stupa, not to repair the afterlife, but to meet you on the road. ———————————————————————————— At that moment, I didn't raise a horse to beg for blessings, but waited for your arrival.
On that day, the Mani Pile was built not for Xiu De, but to throw stones at the Heart Lake.
That January, I shook all the prayer tubes not to cross over, but to touch your fingertips.
That year, I kowtowed on the mountain road, not to see, but to keep your warmth.
This life is not reincarnation, but meeting you on the road.
On that day, I closed my eyes and suddenly heard the true words in your Ode to Scripture in the fragrant fog of the temple.
That January, I shook all the prayer wheels not to cross over, but to touch your fingertips.
That year, I kowtowed to climb the mountain, not to see you, but to stick to your warmth.
I've climbed over mountains and water pagodas all my life, not to repair the afterlife, but to meet you on the road.
That night, I listened to Brahma sing all night, not for enlightenment, but for you.
That January, I turned all the prayer tubes not to cross over, but to touch your fingerprints.
That year, I kowtowed and held dust, not to worship Buddha, but to keep your warmth.
At that time, I crossed hundreds of mountains, not to repair the afterlife, but to meet you on the road.
At that moment, I ascended to eternal life, not for eternal life, but to protect your peace and happiness —————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————
Close your eyes in the incense fog of the temple,
I heard your mantra;
In January of that year,
I turn all the warp barrels,
Not to cross, just to touch your fingertips;
That year,
I kowtowed and climbed the mountain road.
Not to see, just to keep your warmth;
At that time,
I climbed this mountain again and again,
Not to repair the afterlife, just to meet you on the road. ————————————————— That day.
Close your eyes in the incense fog of the temple
Suddenly hear
The mantra you sang
January of that year
I turn all the curved pipes.
Not to cross over.
Just to touch your fingertips
That year
I kowtowed and climbed the mountain road.
Not for the audience.
Just to keep your warmth.
Ina
I put mountains, water and pagodas
Not for the afterlife.
Just to meet you on the road.
White crane in the sky
Please lend me your wings.
I won't fly very far.
I'll just go back to Litang ———————————————————— I listened to the Brahma all night just to find your breath.
That January, I turned all the prayer tubes not to cross over, but to touch your fingerprints.
That year, I kowtowed and held dust, not to worship Buddha, but to keep your warmth.
At that time, I crossed hundreds of mountains, not to repair the afterlife, but to meet you on the road.
At that moment, I soared to immortality, not for immortality, but for your peace and happiness.